


Where Have I Gone

by Aceofstars16



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Ford only has a few mentions but...it's there so?, He's all alone and needs a hug, Other, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Stangst, Stanuary, Stanuary - Travel, Traveling Stan, i just hurt myself with this i'm so mean to stan....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 13:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aceofstars16/pseuds/Aceofstars16
Summary: Leaving New Jersey means no going home, it means being alone, something Stan slowly comes to term with. Aka, last week was fluff, and this week is angst.





	Where Have I Gone

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post](http://aceofstars16.tumblr.com/post/181937054098/stanuary-week-2-travel-i-gave-yall-fluff-last)

Now Leaving New Jersey.

Stan barely saw the sign, it was just a glimpse from the corner of his eye, and yet it hit him in the chest. It wasn’t like he had never left the state before, it wasn’t that big after all. But the times he had left were few and far in between and now…he could never go back.

He was leaving for good.

Part of him wanted to be happy. But he couldn’t…not really. Even after leaving Glass Shard beach, he still drove through the town. Sometimes he even drove past the pawn shop. Once or twice he had almost stopped, almost gone to the door, but he had always stopped himself before he hit the brakes. He couldn’t go back, not until he proved himself, till he showed his worth.

And now he could never go back, no matter how much he might want to.

The heaviness that was growing in his chest expanded as Stan realized the true reality of it all. There was no going home. If he even tried the police would send him away, not even mentioning his Pa, who probably would just throw him out again. His entire life had been pulled away and now he was well and truly alone. And it was terrifying.

Shaking his head, Stan tried to clear it away. His family has deserted him, he had to accept that and move on. It’s what he had been telling himself for months – he could only rely on himself. But that didn’t mean he wanted to.

With a hard blink and a wipe across his eyes, Stan focused on the road again. He was alone, that’s just the way it was going to be. The sooner he accepted that, the better...no matter how much it hurt.

* * *

The moon shone in the sky, lighting up the dim stretch of road Stan was currently parked on. Maybe it wasn’t the safest place to stay the night, but he didn’t have the money for anything else. Well, he did have enough money to make a phone call, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually speak when he heard his brother’s voice on the other end.

Stan wished he could simply turn of his feelings, or joke them away, or talk himself out of them. But every time he tried to, they only grew. Like a monster trying to pull him even further into the hopeless muck of his mind.

If only he could restart his life. If only he could change the past, just one little mistake, that’s all he needed to fix. Then maybe, just maybe, things would be better, or at least he’d have Ford by his side through it all. But time travel wasn’t an option. The only option he had was this – traveling on the road, going from state to state, sometimes trailing into Mexico, scamming whatever people he could before he got caught.

Some people might think it was a life of adventure. But the reality of it was far less thrilling. Countless nights sleeping in his car, sometimes without food, and any food he could afford was hardly healthy. Not that he minded but it sure drained his energy…man growing up sucked.

Eyes flicking to the picture tapped to the sun blocker of his car, Stan felt the same remorse pierce his heart every time he saw his brother.

“Sure hope you are doing better than me, Sixer…” he whispered before reaching up and pushing the picture out of view, knowing that if he kept looking at it, the sorrow would swallow him completely.

Squeezing his eyes tight, Stan fought back against the loneliness, against the wetness in his eyes. This was his life, he just had to keep going. He told himself that every night. But tonight it didn’t to anything, it only hurt more. And he knew exactly why.

Pulling down the sun blocker again, Stan reached up and grabbed the picture, studying it for a moment before holding it to his chest.

“Happy Birthday, Ford…”

The hollowness in his chest only grew and Stan curled up as much as he could in the car seat as tears fell silently down his face.

* * *

Hope. Stan hadn’t felt it in so long he barely knew what to make of it. Oh sure, there was the occasional hopefulness that came when he got a good hand in poker, or when he was about to make a big score. But this…this was totally different.

Eyes flicking to the postcard sitting next to him, emotions fluttered in his chest. He couldn’t make sense of most of them, and worry continued to come to the surface as he tried to figure out what had prompted Ford to contact him. Especially after ten years of no communication. But that didn’t matter, Ford had asked him to come, and there was no way Stan was going to let this opportunity pass him by.

Sure, it was a little terrifying. There would be a lot to talk about, and Stan knew it wouldn’t be fun, especially not facing up to the guilt that had been eating away at him for years. But it would be worth it, because it would mean getting his brother back. They could work things out, Stan could apologize, they could catch up, they could make things right. They could be brothers again.

The hope building up in his chest was almost overwhelming, but Stan accepted it. After years of depression, of isolation, of brokenness, hope was more than welcome. Because things were about to change, he could feel it in his soul. This was a new start. For the first time in ten years he wasn’t going to be alone.

* * *

The wind howled outside, ramming against the side of the shack as loud as the winter storms of Glass Shard Beach. But Stan barely heard it. His entire body was numb, he could barely think as the events of the day kept replaying over and over again in his mind. All of the mistakes, all of the hurtful words. Everything he would take back in an instant, if only to bring Ford back. But no. Once again, he had ruined everything. Ford was gone. And this time there was no phone number that could reach him, nothing Stan could do to try and contact him again. Just a gaping hole in the middle of a broken machine he didn’t understand one bit of.

_“Stanley, do something! Stanley!”_

Ford’s last words rang around in Stan’s mind, pressing in on him until he felt like a child again. When his father yelled at him, when other kids mocked him for being the stupid one, when Ford closed the curtains of their room, leaving him to face the world alone. The weight of it all was too much and he couldn’t fight it. Just one sob. Then another. And then he was shaking and shivering and crumbling, breaking in a way that could never be fixed. Because he had caused it all, and he would never be able to fix it.

Time was irrelevant, only sorrow and pain existed. Stan couldn’t feel, and yet he was feeling too much. He was drowning there was no one to save him.  
Then something sharp jabbed into his back and he could barely move his arm to grab the source of the problem. Ford’s journal.

For a moment, Stan just looked at it – the six fingers on the front, his haggard reflection in the reflective logo. But a spark of…something flared in his chest as he remembered Ford’s words. This journal…it held the key to turning on the portal again.

“I’m not smart enough to fix it though…” Stan muttered to himself, and he knew it was true. Ford was the smart twin, he was just the brawn. But then Ford’s desperate cries echoed through his head once again and in desperation he grasped a hold of the idea, of that minuscule determination.

Yes, it might be foolish, it might run him more ragged than before. But God help him if he didn’t at least try.

No matter what, he wasn’t going to stop trying. No more driving around with no direction. The days of traveling across the country were over. Stan was staying put until he brought Ford home…or until he died trying.

“I’ll get you back, Sixer…I…I promise.”


End file.
